


Skin And Bones

by Lucigoosey_The_Lightbringer



Series: And They Were Roommates [5]
Category: Prodigal Son (TV 2019)
Genre: Bonding, Eating Disorders, Family Bonding, Father-Son Relationship, Fluff, Food Issues, Gen, Good Parent Martin Whitly, Humor, Light Angst, Malcolm Bright Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Parent Martin Whitly, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Martin Whitly, eating issues, kind of?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-17 04:00:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29343993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lucigoosey_The_Lightbringer/pseuds/Lucigoosey_The_Lightbringer
Summary: "Most food makes me sick," he finally decided to explain after a moment, and Martin just stared at him. "These are one of few things that don't. And I don't usually have the time to fix up meals for myself that I can eat."
Relationships: Malcolm Bright & Martin Whitly
Series: And They Were Roommates [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2147352
Comments: 2
Kudos: 52





	Skin And Bones

It quickly became apparent that both Malcolm and Martin were going to have a little bit of trouble adjusting to this new living arrangement - more trouble than Malcolm had expected, and in many more different ways than he ever _could_ have expected. For one, Martin wasn't happy with his routines. Specifically, his food routines. Lunch consisted of a handful of licorice and a much-needed glass of whiskey, and he sat at the counter nibbling on the candy while his father shuffled through his cabinets with an ever-increasing air of frustration radiating from him. Admittedly, he seemed rather harmless right then, even when he started slamming the cabinets shut and eventually whirled on his son with an incredulous, "do you have _nothing_ edible here?!"

Malcolm bit into one of the licorice pointedly and gestured toward the jar. "Help yourself."

Martin stared at him for a moment, then flicked his gaze toward the jar of licorice, expression shifting from disbelieving to worried in an instant. "You… you're joking. You can't _live_ off these."

They hadn't even made it through the whole day.

(Malcolm still didn't know what he was going to do about sleeping arrangements. Obviously his father was getting the couch (not that Malcolm figured he'd be sleeping tonight, though).)

"I've been living off of these for years," Malcolm muttered. He finished off one of the licorice, looking toward Sunshine - on the counter, taking neat bites of her own food - and picked up another piece, biting off the tip of it and chewing silently for a moment while he studied his father's expression, now equal measures confusion and horror. "Most food makes me sick," he finally decided to explain after a moment, and Martin just stared at him. "These are one of few things that don't. And I don't usually have the time to fix up meals for myself that I _can_ eat." When Martin simply continued to stare, Malcolm frowned, sighed, and let the licorice droop a little, gesturing toward himself with it, and then the jar, with a sigh. "I mean, _obviously_ these aren't the only things I eat. I don't think it'd be possible for me to survive completely off of candy. This is just my go-to when I don't have anything else available, and… I usually don't, so."

"So you _make_ things available," Martin insisted, sitting down across from him. Malcolm raised an eyebrow, crossing one arm over the other and biting off another piece. "I'm sure there's other things - _healthier_ things that you can stomach, and I don't care how 'difficult' it'd be, it's certainly worth it to ensure you're healthy." The man scowled for a moment. Malcolm tilted his head and gazed at him. He really needed to stop letting these things surprise him, but he couldn't get over the genuine concern in his father's eyes. "You could also try changing your medication."

"No," Malcolm dismissed at once, much to Martin's chagrin. "And how'd you know-?" He stopped, looking over to the other side of the counter, where he kept his rather extensive collection of pill bottles, and frowned for a moment before biting off another piece of licorice.

"That, and I'm a doctor," Martin reminded him, raising an eyebrow. "An _excellent_ doctor. And as a doctor - and your father - I'd like to express my full disapproval in your eating habits."

"I told you, I don't have time-"

" _Make_ time. You're skin and bones! I didn't want to say anything, but you were getting skinner and skinner with every visit," Martin interrupted, then sank back, a thoughtful look crossing his face. "I'm writing you a shopping list. Tomorrow, you're buying enough food to fill this entire kitchen, and I will _personally_ cook you a full meal that won't make you sick," he finally spoke, and Malcolm blinked, raising his eyebrows, while Martin flicked his gaze toward the pill bottles on the counter. "It's also entirely possible your medications are interfering with one another… you're not taking them all together at once, are you?" He demanded, sweeping his gaze back toward Malcolm. The profiler fell silent then, biting off another piece of licorice without responding, and Martin raised his eyebrows and groaned, ducking his head. "Oh, _Malcolm."_

"The doctors said it was okay," Malcolm mumbled. "That they weren't-"

" _Aware_ of any side-effects." Martin huffed out a sigh. "Right. You're spreading them out now."

Malcolm raised his eyebrows slightly, offering him a dubious look and setting the piece of licorice down on the counter after a moment, no longer interested in eating. It had started out kind of funny, if he was being honest, but now Martin was kinda starting to sound like Jessica.

"I think," he began slowly after a moment, "it'll be fine."

"And _I_ think it's been a long time since you've had my cooking," Martin reminded him, a faint smile tugging at his lips now. "I bet you don't even remember the taste of my chicken broth."

Malcolm furrowed his eyebrows, falling silent. The taste? No. But he remembered Martin would cook different things for him whenever he was sick when he was younger, things his taste buds could handle, things he could keep down. Chicken broth was only one of many of those things. And Martin was right. It had been a damn long time since he'd had his father's cooking.

"So." Martin inclined his head. "Shopping tomorrow?"

Malcolm glanced down at the half-eaten piece of licorice, twisting his mouth.

And hell, honestly, why not?

"Fine." Malcolm took a deep breath and let it out slowly. It wouldn't hurt anything. All things considered, his father wanting to cook for him honestly wasn't the worst thing ever. He wasn't really eager for a meal - eating had become nothing more than a necessity to him a long time ago (if it could even be called that now with how little he did it regardless) - but on some level, he hated to admit, part of him _wanted_ to remember that taste. And, all things considered, cooking was one of the least harmful things his father could be doing right now. "I'll go shopping tomorrow. And I'll get you… whatever." He waved a hand. "I know you're on some vegan diet."

Martin laughed a little, leaning back with a grin. "Well, that's only because the meat in Claremont is a little less than desirable. I'd _kill_ for a hamburger." Malcolm raised an eyebrow at that, and Martin backtracked rather quickly, the grin on his face turning almost sheepish. "Not literally."

Malcolm laughed, despite himself, and Martin chuckled along with him, a fond expression flitting across his father's face while Malcolm crossed his arms over the counter. "I'll get hamburgers."

"Oh, you'll be getting a lot of things, my boy," Martin warned. "I'm still writing that list."

Malcolm couldn't bite back the smile that flashed across his face in time.

He wasn't even sure he wanted to.

"Now," Martin began, "about your medication…"

… yeah, _this_ was going to take some adjusting to.

(And all things considered… he figured maybe he could give it a try.)


End file.
